Aftermath
by Lady-SM
Summary: In the aftermath of the final battle, Rumplestiltskin has some difficult choices to make. Meanwhile, Belle's in the hospital, and a new arrival in town means a shock for Emma.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own OUAT and whatnot. But I do own a love of Rumbelle and a penchant for excessive angst.

Enjoy!

* * *

Aftermath – Chapter One

* * *

The irony did not escape Rumplestiltskin as he sat in the observation room, hands clasped tightly around the handle of the blade still slick with her blood, his dark eyes fixed on the scene before him, unblinking. The most powerful being in all the land, Storybrooke or otherwise, was entirely helpless.

The doctor working frantically to save her looked vaguely familiar to him. He hoped to whoever may be listening that it wasn't one of those incompetent dwarves, but he had a sinking feeling that it might just be. Nurses bustled about also, blocking his view. Every time an especially plump one stood in front of his Belle's face, his grip on the dagger grew a little tighter.

They hadn't wanted to let him in there – the observation room was supposed to be for family only, but no one seemed willing to challenge him on it, especially not while he still held the dagger in his hands.

He wanted to throw it away, cast it aside forever, or at the very least, bury it deep within his own breast in an attempt to quell the unrelenting ache in his heart for good. Instead, he moved his hands to the blade, wrapping his fingers around it and letting the cold steel slice into them as he held it tightly, his blood mixing with hers. It wasn't fair that only she should shed blood that day. It wasn't fair at all.

Inside the operating room, a nurse hurried to hook up another bag to the IV. Fast as they worked, she had lost so much blood already. He ignored the pain in his hands, and willed them to work faster.

* * *

'I command you, _Rumplestiltskin, _to stay right where you are. _Please._' The Queen had sneered the words through a smug smile. She had known exactly what she was doing that night, she had them all exactly where she wanted them. What she hadn't counted on, was Belle. She hadn't expected her to follow him, not after the fight she'd watched through her mirror. She hadn't allowed for the sheer strength of Belle's love for Rumplestiltskin. She hadn't anticipated the girl throwing herself in front of the frozen man, halting the dagger in its tracks – though the force of the Queen's attack meant the blade went so deep it very nearly came out the other side. Her eyes flew wide in shock as she fell back into her love's arms, the pair of them tumbling to the ground, her prone body landing heavily in his lap.

He knew little more of the final battle after that. His memories were hazy, even now, as he'd summoned every last bit of magic at his fingertips to save her. He knew he hadn't the power to heal, but that hadn't stopped him trying anyway.

In the end, it had been Emma who had defeated the Queen, as he'd said all along. She hadn't needed an enchanted dagger, she had refused to use her own gun. The Evil Queen had been defeated by nothing but words and the power of a pure soul. There was no reason for Rumplestiltskin to even have been there – no reason for Belle to be bleeding to death in the emergency room.

* * *

'Hey – can I come in?' a knock on the door and the saviour's voice drew Rumplestiltskin from his bitter reverie. Emma stood in the doorway, a slight frown of sympathy furrowing her brow as she regarded him, cautiously.

'I'm afraid I'm not much company at the moment, Sheriff Swan,' his voice came out hoarse. He remembered crying out Belle's name, as she lay unconscious in his arms – now he wondered how many times he'd called it, perhaps he'd even screamed it. He couldn't remember the ambulance arriving, or much of the journey. He remembered Emma helping him into the hospital, and Snow White and Charming hovering in the background, the former frantic about Belle, the latter keen to get his hands on the Dark One's dagger – for their safety, he insisted. Emma had kept her parents at bay, and Rumplestiltskin was grateful. Not that he would tell her that.

Now, the saviour slipped into the observation room and closed the door quietly behind her. It was strange that everything could be so silent, when so much noise existed on the opposite side of the glass.

'She's going to be okay, you know?' Emma said, taking a seat beside him and following his gaze, which had not strayed since she'd entered the room. 'Belle's tough, she's a fighter.'

'She shouldn't have to be,' Rumplestiltskin replied, quietly. 'She shouldn't have been near any of this. I should have kept her safe and left the Queen to you – like I was always supposed to,'

Emma sighed, she really wasn't comfortable with this self-deprecating Rumplestiltskin. She found she knew where she was more with the old, self-assured one. It was then that she spied the dagger in his hands.

'Jesus, Gold!' she exclaimed, calling him by his old Storybrooke name without thinking. She'd tried her damnedest to remember to call everyone by their fairytale names – as most preferred – but her mind was on other things at the moment. 'What have you done to yourself?'

Rumplestiltskin dropped his gaze to his lap, and stared at his hands, as though seeing them for the first time. They were cut to ribbons, but he barely felt any pain.

'I guess you're not going to let me take that thing as evidence,' Emma attempted humour. It did not go down well. Instead, he clutched it tightly again. 'Hey, woah – okay, note to self, no jokes about the dagger. What's the deal with that thing anyway?'

'It's simple really dearie,' he replied, a hint of his impish self creeping through his human façade, but his words held a bitter edge. 'Whoever controls the dagger, controls the Dark One's power.'

'That's how Regina got one over on you?' Emma raised an eyebrow, and he nodded. 'That's gotta be a heck of a risk considering the amount of people gunning for you these days. Is it really worth it? The power, being the 'Dark One' or whatever.' He said nothing, but Emma noticed his lips tighten, and she knew she'd touched on something of a sensitive subject. 'Look, I know I'm still kinda new to this whole 'fairytale' thing, but doesn't true love's kiss break every curse? How are you still cursed if you have Belle?'

'I don't have Belle,' Rumplestiltskin muttered, his voice breaking. 'She left. In both worlds, in both lives, I chose my power over her, and she left.'

'…Why?' Emma couldn't help herself, she had seen too much of his pain to accept that he simply wanted to keep his power more than her, there had to be something more to it. 'I know you love her, Gold. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have beaten her father half to death for a tea cup if you didn't.'

'It's not that simple,' he protested.

'Sounds pretty damn simple to me,' Emma shot back. 'Share true love's kiss, break the curse, live happily ever after. What are you waiting for?'

'My _son,_' he hissed, then cursed under his breath. What was it about this child of Snow White and Prince Charming that managed to get under everyone's skin? He hadn't even admitted his real reasoning for clinging to his magic to Belle. If he had, maybe she wouldn't have left. Maybe she wouldn't be in the hospital right now. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

'You have a son?' Emma's voice was soft again, all hostility gone and replaced with empathy. He supposed after recent events, she could relate.

'I did,' he admitted. 'I lost him a long time ago, because of my own… foolishness,' And cowardice, he added silently. Belle was right when she called him a coward, she was always right. 'If I give up my magic, I give up all hope of finding him.'

Emma bit her lip, and risked a glance at the broken man sitting beside her. They spent a good thirty seconds in silence, while Emma wrestled with her inner self, trying to decide whether she should say what she was thinking or just keep quiet. She decided to say it, and to hell with the consequences.

'Look, I'm not saying I know how you're feeling here, but the way I see it? You gotta start living in the now, Gold, instead of always lamenting the past. Belle's here, now, and she loves you enough to take a bullet for you… or, well, a dagger, but you know what I mean. I don't know what happened with your son, but this power isn't good for you. It isn't good for Belle. I can't imagine it'd good for your son, either.'

'You don't know what you're talking about, Sheriff,' he warned, his voice tight. Emma wasn't dissuaded.

'No, I don't. But I do know that if you don't make a call on this soon, you'll end up losing both of them.'

She expected a reaction – at the very least, she expected some kind of colourful name-calling and a decent whack from his cane when he finally lost his infamous temper – but nothing came. She looked at him, and frowned when she saw the unshed tears clinging to his eyelashes, just waiting for permission to fall. He was shaking, whether in anger or grief, she couldn't tell – but she knew the dagger was still in his hands. Quickly, she scooted around so she was kneeling in front of him, removing her scarf as she went.

'Gold – _Rumplestiltskin – _listen to me. I don't want to take it from you, but I want you to put that thing down. You're going to end up losing a finger or something. Just… just put it down, and let me help.'

Suddenly, Emma was aware of just how tired he looked. It was like all his centuries just descended upon his shoulders in an instant, and as she wrapped his bloodied hands in her scarf, holding it there tightly to stop the bleeding, she found herself staring into the face of a broken old man, and she could do nothing but keep hold of his trembling hands as he broke down before her.


	2. Chapter 2

Aftermath – Chapter Two

_**AN:**_

_**I apologise in advance for making you wait for Rumbelle…**_

It took the team of doctors nearly two hours to get Belle stable, and every second seemed to Rumplestiltskin to last a thousand years. To her credit, Emma stayed in the observation room with him the whole time. She was silent for the most part, for even after everything they'd been through these past few days, they would never claim to be friends. Still, she stayed. And he was glad not to be left entirely alone with his empty heart.

At past one in the morning, an exhausted looking doctor held up his hands at last, and stepped back to let a nurse remove his mask. Emma and Rumplestiltskin stood abruptly, the latter moving toward the glass as though pulled by an unseen force. There followed a horrible moment of nothingness, until the doctor – he was _certain _that man was a dwarf, and really didn't think he should be allowed in an operating theatre – spied them and gave the pair a quick nod, and a small, tight-lipped smile. Emma knew how to read that smile – it meant Belle was safe, for now, but it didn't mean she was out of the woods yet.

'Gold?' Emma approached him, hesitantly. 'You alright?'

He didn't turn from the window, but watched with hawk eyes as the nurses tidied around his love, making sure she was covered and clean and hooked up to whatever machines they needed to keep her living and breathing and just _right there. _He was breathed deeply through his nose, and let out a great sigh. It felt like the first time he'd breathed properly since they'd entered the hospital.

'She's okay,' he said, as though he needed to say it aloud to ensure it stayed true. 'She's okay.'

'Yeah, she's okay,' Emma agreed, with the same smile the doctor had given them. If Rumplestiltskin had been more himself, he might have picked up on her concern, but he wasn't, and he didn't.

'It appears I owe you a new scarf,' he commented, unwinding the stained accessory from around his hands.

'Forget that favour I owe you and call it even?' Emma suggested, and was rewarded with a disbelieving eyebrow raise, as she knew she would be. 'Alright, fine. Well you can't blame a girl for trying, can you?'

'I suppose not,' he agreed. For a moment, it was almost like the events of the last few weeks hadn't even happened. It was as though they were just Emma Swan and Mr Gold again, quipping at each other through the bars of a prison holding cell, talking of favours and pastrami. Then the nurses began to slowly wheel Belle out of the operating room, in the direction of the nearby ward of private rooms, and those few weeks caught up with them in a split second. Suddenly, Gold was Rumplestiltskin again, and Emma was the girl who had just called him on his cowardice, and held his hands while he cried.

'Keep the scarf,' Emma said. 'And go to Belle. But first, I want to make a deal.'

'A deal, dearie?' Rumplestiltskin's ears pricked up, though his heart was drifting out the door, already half way to Belle. 'Didn't your mother ever tell you not to make deals with me?'

'She did actually – but that's beside the point. It's a simple one, I just want to make sure you don't go anywhere. I want your word that you will stay here, or tell me if you're going anywhere – and tell me _where _– and in return I'll keep the royal rents off your back. Until Belle is better, anyway.'

'Until Belle is better,' Rumplestiltskin repeated, his eyes darting to the door at the very mention of her name. Emma couldn't hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth; the man had it _bad. _

'So… deal?' She held out her hand, and he eyed it carefully, then shook it once.

'Deal,' he agreed. Emma grinned, and moved to the door, holding it open while he retrieved his precious dagger, wrapping it in her scarf and hiding it safely under his suit jacket. They left the room together, he turning to the private ward, her to the reception hall to face Snow and Charming, but the sound of her name stopped her momentarily in her tracks.

'Emma,' he rarely used it – called her Sheriff for the most part, Miss Swan for the rest, but just then she suddenly knew that it was true what they said about the power of a name. She half turned back toward him, an enquiring eyebrow raised. 'Thank you,' he said. And she had not expected that.

'You're welcome,' she had a hundred retorts flying around her head, but in that moment, she hadn't the heart to use them. He bowed his head at her one last time, and turned, making his way to Belle's side, where he intended to stay.

* * *

'Emma!' Henry's excited greeting rung out through the near silent reception hall. David – Charming – her _father_ (that one was weird) stood as if on ceremony on her arrival, and Mary – no, Snow – sat up a little straighter.

'Everything okay?' Snow asked, still a little uncertain how to act around her daughter. Still, she couldn't help but smile at the way Emma absorbed the impact of Henry colliding with her legs, clamping his arms around her waist. The pair of them were just so _good _at being mother and son. She wished she and Emma could fit together as well, but even after everything that had happened, she knew Emma didn't view her as her mother. She was her flatmate and friend, but mother? Not yet. Maybe not ever.

'Yeah, sort of,' Emma replied, sounding a little distracted.

'Ew,' Henry grimaced, pulling away from her slightly and looking a little freaked out. 'You've got blood all on you. It's not yours is it?'

'No, it's Gold's,' Emma wrinkled her nose too, more out of disappointment than anything – she really liked that shirt. 'Rumplestiltskin's, I mean.'

'Is he okay?' Henry looked worried, and Emma didn't miss James' unsubtle eye roll.

'He's fine,' Emma assured her son, ignoring her father. 'Just a little… self destructive. And on that subject,' she raised her gaze to her parents, 'I sort of promised that you guys would leave him alone for the time being.'

'What?' James stared at her in disbelief. 'Emma, Rumplestiltskin is the reason we're all here in the first place. He's the reason you grew up without parents – '

'_Regina _is the reason I grew up without parents,' Emma corrected. 'Look, you know there's no going back on a deal with him, so we can argue about this later. I don't know about you, but I could seriously do with a stiff drink and a very hot bath. I think we should get out of here – until tomorrow at least.'

James looked as though he was about to object, but he was silenced by a pointed look from his wife, and the wide-eyed stare of his grandson. Sometimes he wondered if Henry didn't know exactly how effective those puppy dog eyes of his could be.

'Alright, until tomorrow,' James conceded. Emma nodded once, and picked up her jacket, folding it over her arm. The moment she did so, her cell phone began to ring shrilly from her inner pocket. She groaned, and dug around until she found it. She recognised the number as Granny's Diner, which didn't exactly fill her with confidence, at 2 o'clock in the morning.

'Hello?'

'Emma, hey!' the hushed voice on the other end buzzed with nervous excitement.

'Ruby? Is everything okay?'

'It's Red – remember? And I'm not sure. There's a guy here, he's been here for hours…'

'Is he giving you guys trouble?' Emma couldn't quite get her head around the call – it was after 2am, she was exhausted, and she was covered in the blood of Rumplestiltskin. A drunken guy in a diner didn't exactly figure high on her list of priorities.

'No, not exactly,' Red wasn't exactly being forthcoming. 'He came in earlier, asking all these questions, about the town and the curse and asking for everyone's true names… and Granny basically told him where to go, but he stuck around anyway. In the end, I told him if he really wanted answers, he should talk to you, seeing as you're the Sheriff and Snow White and Prince James are your parents, and then he got _really _interested and now I get the feeling I might have said too much, you know?'

'Red, calm down for a second, okay? Look, I've got to come past the diner on my way back anyway. I'll stick my head in, check out Storybrooke's latest stranger, and be on my merry way. One thing – he doesn't have like a hook for a hand or, I don't know, snake-like slits instead of a nose or anything, does he?'

'Uh… no,' it sounded like Red genuinely checked for both, while Henry smirked at Emma's side.

'Okay, I'll be there in like – fifteen minutes,' Emma said, checking her watch and grimacing when she saw it was now closer to 2.30am. She had a feeling that hot bath wasn't going to show up in her life any time soon.

'Great! But hurry – I think Granny's on the verge of getting her old cross bow out…' Red warned, as Emma hung up the phone.

'What's wrong?' Snow asked. 'Was that Red?'

'Yeah,' Emma answered. 'Something about a stranger at Granny's, wanting answers about the town. I should go check it out – can you guys take Henry home with you?'

'What? Emma, I want to come!' Henry objected. 'It could be important for Operation Cobra!'

Emma shook her head and looked to her mother imploringly, but Snow White seemed to be allied with her grandson. Emma hated it when that happened.

'You shouldn't go on your own, not after everything that's happened tonight. Besides, Red's my friend – I want to make sure she and Granny are okay too.'

'They'll be fine, they can take care of themselves,' but Emma knew there was little point in trying to deter Snow White once her mind was made up.

'Emma, last time I left Red alone with a guy, she ate him. Humour me?' Snow had that look on her face that said she wasn't taking no for an answer. Emma sighed and stuffed her cell phone back into her pocket.

'Fine.' She muttered. 'Family outing at 2.30am, awesome.'

* * *

The steady rise and fall of her chest should have been reassuring, but all the tubes and beeping machines detracted from that miracle somewhat. Rumplestiltskin lingered in the doorway at first, waiting patiently for the nurses fussing with her to finish. He considered turning them into something unpleasant, just to get them out of the way, but Belle probably wouldn't approve of that.

At last they were alone, silent, save for the gentle sounds of the medical equipment ensuring her continued existence. Rumplestiltskin pulled up a chair to the side of her bed and settled himself in it, setting the bloodied bundle of the Dark One's dagger on the bedside unit beside them. He took her hand in his and held it as though it was made of glass, bowing his head to place a gentle kiss on each of her fingers.

'Oh my Belle,' he sighed, chancing a glance at her face. Her brow was ever so slightly furrowed, like she was puzzling through a problem in her sleep. Still holding her hands in his, he leaned forward and pressed another kiss to her forehead, in an attempt to smooth away her troubles. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought she looked a little more peaceful after he pulled away.

And now, there was nothing for it, but to wait.


End file.
